


Pocket Pirates!

by kayliemalinza



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pokemon
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-24
Updated: 2006-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-27 09:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackichu and Norrmander share an intense rivalry. Will and Elizabeth didn't expect this kind of trouble when they decided to become Pokemon trainers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pocket Pirates!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a thank-you fic for [**anyasy**](http://anyasy.livejournal.com/) in return for her submitting to my pressure to draw Jack Sparrow as Pikachu. She went above and beyond the call of duty and Pokemized several other characters in [these beautiful icons](http://manic-intent.livejournal.com/8689.html).

William Turner, mid-level Pokemon trainer, sat back on his heels and sighed.

"You've been a very naughty Pokemon," he said.

The small creature seated on the grass in front of him had no reply to this accusation but to cant his chin at a more defiant angle. Will pressed on.

"Now, I know that Jackichu attacked you first, but Elizabeth tells me it was only a little zap." The pokemon crossed his arms more tightly across his chest. His tail thrashed quietly behind him, indicating that a 'little zap' could be a Big Deal Indeed. Will tilted his head reprovingly. "It certainly didn't warrant setting his hair on fire."

It was possible that Norrmander smirked a bit.

Will sighed again and looked over the training grounds at the black clouds of smoke still lingering and the training objects still scattered from Jackichu running around squawking in panic while Elizabeth chased him with a bucket of water. The sunburst stripes of black grass and the melted slag which had once been the only set of free-weights were the result of the slight electrical explosion that occurred when Elizabeth caught up to Jackichu. After overexerting himself so much Jackichu wouldn't be able to battle for weeks, and it was going to cost a lot of money to replace those weights, and who knew when cranky Mrs. Simmons on the other side of the road was going to make good on her threat of "if I see smoke _one more time_...."

Maybe Will's mum had been right all those years ago when she told him to become a blacksmith instead.

  


***

  
Elizabeth, mid-level Pokemon trainer, unfolded another towel and sighed. "You know, Jack, if you wouldn't tease him so much, this sort of thing wouldn't happen."

The pokemon sitting on the kitchen counter, who had been mournfully examining his charred and dripping locks, burst into a string of indignant "Jack! Jackichuuuuuuuu!"s that were muffled when Elizabeth dropped the towel over his head and starting scrubbing vigourously. When she lifted it again, he glowered at her and opened his mouth to complain again, but just then his longest and prettiest dreadlock, burned and weakened at the root, fell off and landed in the sink. They both stared at it in shock, then Jackichu picked it up with a tremulous paw and tried to stick it back on his head.

Elizabeth watched the futile exercise for a few minutes before gently saying, "It's not going to go back on, Jack." She could see the signs, like shrapnel littered miles before a bomb site: the trembling lips, the welling eyes, the slow deep intake of breath.

Jackichu burst into tears. He sobbed, he wailed, he thrashed his pudgy limbs like one gone mad. If he hadn't expended most of his electrical energy earlier in the yard, he would be shooting sparks from every patch of fur. As it was, his distress produced a desultory series of pops and fizzles, and a few pathetic wisps of smoke.

"Oh, no, Jackichu, don't, don't..... Calm down, sweetie, don't cry. It'll grow back, I promise." The words had no effect, so Elizabeth wrapped a towel around Jackichu to protect herself from the electric fizzling and cradled him to her chest. The towel at least stopped his epileptic thrashing, but the sobs were as loud and wracking as ever. Elizabeth glanced around helplessly, spying a box of cookies next to the toaster. Will didn't like for her to give the Pokemon cookies to stop temper-tantrums, but this was an emergency, right? Surely if Will had all of _his_ hair burnt off he wouldn't begrudge himself a cookie?

"Here, Jack, look at this. Do you want a cookie?" Elizabeth said. Jackichu quieted, still sniffling as he stared at the cookie thrust in front of him. "Do you want it?" Elizabeth asked again. Jackichu nodded, reaching an uncertain paw from the folds of the towel, as if expecting Elizabeth to snatch it back. She didn't, though, and when he brought the cookie to his mouth and began to nibble she breathed a sigh of relief. The crisis was averted.

As long as the cookies lasted, at least.

  


***

  
Norrmander skulked in the corner of the training yard, having been told in no uncertain terms to not expect any sweets, toys, or new brocade for at least a month. Will had threatened to deny him tea as well, but Norrmander was unconcerned. They could take his tea and biscuits, but they could never take his dignity.

Norri was consoling himself by adjusting his cuffs when the gate to the training yard opened and Elizabeth came in, carrying Jackichu and a box of cookies. She set him down on the softest patch of grass in the corner and left, sending a warning glance to Norrmander.

Well, if that wasn't just the most—

Norrmander strode (well, waddled) over to Jackichu with a stern glare on his orange face. Jackichu smiled back smugly and shoved another cookie into his mouth. Norri narrowed his eyes, rocked back on his tail, and—

Jackichu threw the cookie box away and ran as fast as he could towards the gate, paws clutched protectively over his remaining crackles of hair, squeaking as he felt the lick of fire on his tail.

Norrmander belched one last ball of flame and closed his mouth, savoring the smoky smell of a job well done. With a quick glance at the windows to make sure Will and Elizabeth weren't watching, he snatched the box of cookies and wandered off, munching happily.

  


***

  
Nobody in the Turner Training Camp was surprised when Norrmander's wig went missing the next morning. Nor was anyone sympathetic when it was later found hanging from the fence, frazzled and spiked beyond all recognition.

Least of all Jack.  



End file.
